Perhaps not. You might have found
reasons of obligation for not doing so. 'Loved deeply'! You never
loved her deeply! You have loved nothing deeply save yourself!"
"Perhaps. Yet I think," said Ian, "that I would have done as much as
that. But Alexander Jardine, of course, would not have taken one
erring step!"
"Have you done now?"
"Yes."
Glenfernie rose to his feet. He stood against the gulf of air and his
great frame seemed enlarged, like the figure of the Brocken. He was
like his father, the old laird, but there glowed an extremer dark
anger and power. The old laird had made himself the dream-avenger of
injuries adopted, not felt at first hand. The present laird knew the
wounding, the searing. "All his life my father dreamed of grappling
with Grierson of Lagg. My Grierson of Lagg stands before me in the
guise of a false friend and lover!... What do I care for your weighing
to a scruple how much the heap of wrong falls short of the uttermost?
The dire wrong is there, to me the direst! Had I deep affection for
you once? Now you speak to me of every treacherous morass, every
_ignis fatuus_, past and present! The traveler through life does right
to drain the bogs as they arise--put it out of their power to suck
down man, woman, and child! It is not his cause alone. It is the
general cause. If there be a God, He approves.
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